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San Diego Momma

San Diego Momma

Sharing some humor, a bit of writing and way too much information

Home / Etcetera / Late PROMPT

Late PROMPT

Etcetera

{{{A week late}}}

 

I saw her first. She fidgeted in the coffee line and continually checked her reflection in the display case. A pair of black bike shorts barely cupped her buttocks, revealing far more than just tanned and toned legs. A sports bra worn as a top, white waffle socks, and black high-tops completed the outfit. Every few seconds or so she looked sideways into the parking lot, then adjusted something: her hair, a strap, lipstick. The hair struck me. Every perfect lacquered strand of it. If she’d just been to the gym, she must have showered and blown her hair out afterwards.

 

I’d say she was late 40s. Complexion a bit tired, eyes overwrought with that Botoxy look. A thin sheen of oil covered her face, but it seemed more like makeup than sweat. As I observed, she continued to rock on her heels, adjust, and sneak glances in that display case and into the parking lot. Until he walked in and joined her in line. At first, she gave him a blank look when he put his arm around her as if she were surprised to see him. I’d been watching for five minutes. I knew she’d been waiting.

 

He was a big man, not fat but broad. Wavy grayish hair curled under his ears and he held himself as if used to commanding audiences or employees. I wasn’t sure which, but I think he was important in some way. He gripped his cell like a barnacle and patted her butt with the other hand.

 

She flirted with her eyes but not in a frivolous way, more like desperate. They brought their drinks to a table by me and his cell buzzed. He spoke low into it, furtive, and hushed. Once he hung up, she leaned into him a little too close and urgent. “Are you going to pick her up?” He nodded and whispered something into her ear.

 

They pushed their chairs even closer together and her knees rested between his faded Levis. He stroked both her hands while still cupping his cell. She needed his touch, I could tell. That’s all she had. I could tell that too.

 

They left in separate cars. She in a red sports coupe, he in a raised truck.

 

I imagine that at some point he went home to his wife.

 

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January 11, 2010 · 3 Comments

Sure I’d love to see you again

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Comments

  1. theresa says

    January 12, 2010 at 7:45 am

    Beautifully written! Loved it!

    Reply
  2. Shana says

    January 12, 2010 at 9:11 am

    Intense. Well done.

    Reply
  3. MomZombie says

    January 13, 2010 at 5:52 pm

    Whoa. I really felt this one in my gut. Nice work.

    Reply

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Sure. I’d love to see you again.

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